With the power within every animal
by Aayu10 Nachos
Summary: What would it be like if Harry could speak other animal tongues besides Parseltounge? The Harry Potter series would have been very different. Here's my take on it...
1. Chapter 1-the beginning

**F irstly, thanks for letting me adopt this idea bittobetty! (Cookie for you (::)) I hope to make this a really good fanfic. So without further ado, let me begin by saying I do not own Harry Potter, even though I wish I could.**

As Harry lay in bed, his mind drifted off into a world of thought of his own. He shuddered as he thought of going back to the Durseleys. He had finally; **finally** found a place he belonged to, friends to share the joys of friendship with. Hogwarts, with its all its weirdness, was where he really fitted in. It was a home away from home, albeit a better one. The food was good, the lessons not too hard. But people still treated him like he was a mutation. That part did not trouble him much; he was used to it as it was happening for the last two years. Yes, he knew how to speak Parsletounge, what's the big deal? He did not become Voldemort overnight! And did surviving Voldemort's attack when he was a year old do anything useful, contribute to his lifestyle in any way? All he had been given was a scar that throbbed horribly at times, the title of The Boy Who Lived and the right to take up residence at the Durseleys. Nothing useful. If he were given a box of Chocolate Frogs, a set of new robes, quills and rolls of parchment, he would have thought otherwise. That reminded him... He had to buy new robes. He was growing out of his old ones at an alarming rate, courtesy the food at Hogwarts and Molly's concern for his health. A trip to Grignotts would not be out of place. He had been exposed to the extensive wealth of his dead parents in his first year at Hogwarts, when Hagrid had come had come to collect him. He remembered the look on the faces of the Durseleys when they saw Hagrid, and when he said those fateful words that changed his life: "Harry, yer a wizard."

He fumbled about for the photo his parents he kept with him. Putting it in the view of the faint sliver of moonlight peeking from the drawn curtains, he looked his father, noticing, as always, how father and son looked alike. His mother smiled at him from the picture. 'When I get time,' he thought, 'I will try and find out more about them.' He put the photo in the bedside drawer and pulled the sheets over him, getting ready to drift off to sleep.

"Aw, shut up! I'm trying to sleep here!" he silently shouted. These voices in his head, each one varying in their cadences, troubled him even more nowadays. If utter confusion had a voice, it would sound like this. On more than one occasion, he had embarrassed himself by asking people whether they heard voices. They had increased in occurrence nowadays; being only a faint mutter that had began on the day when he turned ten, increasing in intensity as he grew older. Even Dumbledore, the renowned principal of Hogwarts, failed to find an answer to why Harry heard them. And why did they mention such strange things, like the catching of mice and owl treats? It was too strange for him. But there was this deep, aristocratic-sounding and doleful voice that stood out among the cacophony of the hoi polloi. The strange thing about it was that it said only one thing: 'Harry'.

Sirius, in his canine form, looked wistfully in the direction of the Gryffindor dorms. He wished that he could enter the dorm, put his arms around Harry, and tell him all about his parents. He wanted to bring him up as his own son, as he reminded Sirius of James in so many ways; they looked alike, had the same disdain for rules, both were in the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He had been spying on harry since his daring escape from Azkaban. But no, he couldn't. His life had turned topsy-turvy since that incident with Peter Pettigrew. He was branded a convict, packed up and taken to Azkaban. He had managed to escape with difficultly, his abilities as Animagus helping him a lot. If only he were not convicted. He barked out 'Harry' dolefully, putting all his emotions into it. Luckily, all everyone heard was a bark. **Oh, if only he knew**

 _ **A nd...First chapter done! Please review! They brighten up my day, and who doesn't want to be happy? And yeah, I'll do a little promotion here. Please read my other fan fiction, 'Cho-the full story' when you'll get the time.**_

 _ **Aayu10 out!**_


	2. Chapter 2-the meeting

**I'm back! With a new supercamofragilisticexpialadocious chapter!**

 **All I have to say is that: - JK Rowling is our Queen**

 **Her books have a regal sheen**

 **Her stories are supreme**

 **This is why all the Harry Potter fans say**

 **JK ROWLING IS OUR QUEEN!**

 **Nope, I don't own Harry Potter**

Welcome home, thought Harry dourly as he went to his room, or should we say Dudley's old bedroom. He was getting better treatment as he would mutter some gibberish under his breath, claiming it was magic, and send the Durseleys into fits of fear. This was the only enjoyment he derived from his stay at the Durseleys. He would mutter "Higgledeley, poogdelley, hocus pocus, crocus locus," just to see Dudley run about, arms flailing in the air, screaming for his mummy. This fear of magic was used to his advantage. Petunia would immediately serve him more dinner when he opened his mouth, probably to begin a 'spell'. Vernon would grudgingly hand him the remote when he asked him for it. He wished Ron, Hermione or someone would come and whisk him away from this hellhole which was called his 'home'.

He opened Hedwig's cage, put a message on her foot and tried to make her deliver the message to Ron's. Hedwig screeched. Harry did not hear a screech. Instead, he heard **'Yo. I'm tired! Lemme sleep!** **I'm nocturnal,** **you twit!'** Wait. Who the hell said that?! Was it Hedwig? No, only wizards can understand animals talk. And Doctor Doolittle. But he was a wizard, wasn't he? Not officially, but yes, he was one. This was too much for him. The only other good thing about living with the Durseleys was that the voices in his head were less compared to when he was in ah, Hogwarts. 'I'm going bonkers,' was the last thing he thought, before he collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.

Sirius witnessed all of this, hidden in the bushes as a dog. 'Harry!' he barked out, anxious. Looking to see if there was no one around, he morphed back into his human form. Muttering "Alohomara," he opened the Durseley's front door. He clambered up the stairs to Harry's room in the form of a dog.

Harry lay sprawled on the floor, his round glasses askew. Sirius let out a howl full of sadness. He licked Harry's face in an effort to revive him.

Harry, meanwhile was aware of only two things:-1) he was going bonkers: and2) something wet and rough was running up and down his face. He quickly jumped back into consciousness. A huge, shaggy black shape was hovering above him. **Calm down** , a deep voice reassured him. He had heard this voice somewhere, but where? "How did you get in here?" **Through the front door, where else?** "Are you- are you a wizard?" **Kind of.** "Harry? Is that a DOG in there?" "Hide, boy." **I'm fully grown.** "Whatever. Just Hide!" Harry's voice became urgent. Vernon, his uncle, came to his room. "Don't act smart. I heard you barking. I know that you can't talk to animals, so don't act like you can." "No, uncle. I was doing homework." "Oh, from that freak-house of a school of yours?" Harry bristled with anger. Nobody called Hogwarts a freak-house! A surge of pure anger hit him. He felt like throttling Uncle Vernon. Wait till he was authorized to use magic. **You'd become a death eater if you harbour such thoughts. But you want to fight them, right?** "Yes, I want to!" He was brought back to reality with a snap. A sudden wave of emotions filled him. He ran his fingers through the dog's soft, silky fur and began to cry.

Sirius was shocked. This boy could understand -and talk - Canistounge, the language of dogs! He remembered James, who could understand animal languages too. Nobody knew how. Many a day passed with James calming distraught animals in Hogwarts. But Sirius knew, and guarded this secret with tooth and claw. The Potters were originally Beastmasters, people who understood animals. He trembled as he remembered the prophecy that was passed down from generation to generation. 'The power within every Living Being can be harnessed by every first- born Potter, son or daughter who is a wizard. Their power will come into existence on their 10th Birthday. They will, and must, use their powers for good, and only good.' **Harry-you're special** , he said and ran down the stairs, out of the front door, out of Privet Drive.

R eminder to self-contact Hermione tomorrow to ask about crazy happenings in my life, Harry thought as his head hit the pillow. That dog-or that wizard acting as dog-had just said that he was special and run out, just like that. What was so special about him, besides the fact that he was a wizard-in-training, who spoke Parsletounge and other animal languages-maybe? He could not form an answer to his question, as the tendrils of sleep had pulled him under.

 **How's it? I might not be updating for a long time as exams are coming up. Pls review and spread the word-good ones, mind you. Reviews make me HAPPY** **! Happiness=high self-esteem=quicker updates!**

 **Aayu10 out!**


	3. Chapter 3-The discovery

**Profuse apologies, first of all. (If u don't know what 'profuse' means, get a dictionary! And use it!) Another chapter presented by mind of Aayu10 for you'll!**

 **P ls Don't Mistake Me for J.K Rowling. The only thing we have in common is the gender and wacky imaginations (MAYBE...)**

"Hermione, could you tell me something, anything about being able to talk to animals? " Harry whispered. Third year Potions was getting more and more complex. Harry was able to get by with Hermione's help. Hermione was holidaying in Greece when Harry had contacted her during the hols, so here he was, talking about talking to animals when they were supposed to make Cheering Potions.

"Why do you want to know?" Hermione asked.

"I-um-my friend can hear animals talking in his head," replied Harry, wanting to hide his little problem. And what that dog had said... that was a whole different ball game altogether.

"I'll tell you later. Snape looks ready to kill us!" Hermione whispered back urgently, aware of the fact that Snape's eyes-and those of the entire class-were on them. Hermione felt the piercing gaze of Draco's icy-blue eyes, most of all. Strangely, the only emotion she saw in them was pity-not the hate which Draco usually reserved for all Muggle-borns.

"Ten points from Gryffindor! " Snape shouted, "May I know, Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, what is of such utter importance, that this Potions class is ignored?"The Slytherins snickered.

"We were discussing the properties of Mandrake, sir."

"Good, good. Do me a favour and tell me about them."

"When fully grown, they can be used to revive a Petrified person or animal," Harry said, remembering his Herbology lessons.

"Hmm... I'll have to admit that they are correct. Now kindly steer your attentions back to the Cheering Potions we are making, thank you very much."

The class ended, everyone feeling abnormally cheerful. Hermione beckoned Harry into the library. She lovingly fingered the spine of each book until she found one with a strange emblem, a person surrounded by many animals. It was covered in red leather, an odd colour.

"Here," said Hermione, placing the book in front of harry. A cloud of dust arose from the book. Harry went into a spasm of coughing. "I had borrowed it for a little light reading." Harry struggled to form a coherent sentence after this confession.

"You call **that** ," he began, incredulously, pointing to the book with a trembling finger, " **light reading**? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Just read it," Hermione answered tiredly.

It was all about these people called 'Beastmasters' who were one with nature, the witch doctors, shamans and the ancestors of wizards. During the witch hunt in the 13th century, a group of them went into hiding. When everything settled down, Pevrell Potter, his ancestor, emerged from the ashes, so to speak. From then on, this ability to talk to animals has been passed on from generation to generation. A prophecy was written at the end of the book, 'The power within every Living Being can be harnessed by every first- born Potter, son or daughter who is a wizard. Their power will come into existence on their 10th Birthday. They will, and must, use their powers for good, and only good.' "I swear to use my powers for good and only good!" he whispered fiercely.

Blue-green light covered him from head to foot. It melded into his skin. He felt a burn upon his forearm. Rolling up his sleeve, he found a tattoo, done in blues and greens, upon that spot. It was the same emblem on the book, a man with animals around him. But, the man looked suspiciously like him-those emerald-green eyes, so like his, that scar upon his forehead, those round glasses. The only difference was that this man looked more mature and grown up. The book, which was being ignored as he examined his tattoo, began to flip by itself, drawing Harry's attention back to it. It stopped when it reached a family tree. There was a blinding flash of light. When he looked back, his name, below his father's was embossed in the family tree.

"What just happened?" began Hermione, who had been conversing with Mrs. Prince.

"I can talk to animals," whispered Harry, "Guard this secret with your life. If anyone knows, I'll be dead!"

He suddenly rose, shushing Hermione, who was about to speak. **"Hey, Argant! Which book are we having today?" "That one: The old Jane Eyre. It's like wine- older is better."** "Silver flies!"Whispered Harry. 'Time to spoil their feast!' he thought.

 **"All you silver flies! I am the new Beastmaster, and I command you'll to leave!"** Spoke Harry, in a high, musical but gravelly lingo. Every silver fly that had ever laid siege to the Hogwarts library emerged from the shelves, and in an orderly line, exited. "Cool!" squealed Hermione.

"By the way, thanks for giving the book." They exited the library after the silver flies.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to gawp at this spectacle. Ron, Fred and George joined them.

"Where were you'll?" Ron asked.

"In the library, studying," Hermione replied.

"You see that?" Fred exclaimed, pointing to the line of the silver flies that was moving towards the giant squid's pond. "That's-"

"That's some sick magic! I would love to meet the person who did this. Shake him/her by the hand, I would! We could use someone like that!" George said, even before Fred could complete his sentence.

"I really wish I knew who it was," Ron added wistfully. Harry and Hermione just smiled and shared a wink.

"You'll ace 'Care of Magical Creatures', you know that, Harry," said Hermione, when they reached the common room. Sir Carter was now guarding the doorway, as the Fat Lady was away, having fun with her friends. "Password," he asked. "Codswallop," George said, remembering the password given to them. "Wrong!"

Harry whinnied under his breath, trying to catch the attention of Sir Carter's horse. **"Huh? Waddya want?"** the horse neighed.

" **Tell me the password."**

" **Sherbet Wizzpoppers."**

" **Thanks a lot."**

" **Don't mention it."**

Harry said what the horse told him. They were let in.

"Harry, how did you know what it was?" George exclaimed, surprised."None of us knew it."

Harry just smiled mysteriously. **Oh, if only George came to know.**

 **Hey! How are you'll? Please don't beat me for updating really late! But for your wait, I have a reward, a kinda long chapter. Pls review and tell people about it!**

 **Love you'll 3 3!**

 **Aayu10 out**


	4. Chapter 4-The swim

**Bonjour, mes amis! *** **Conspirational** **whisper-its bon soir actually, down here in India* Anyways, I'm so sorry for this late update. But I hope this chapter satisfies your never-ending need for good literature! Thanks for the lovin', all you guys-and gals! 333 you'll have NO IDEA how happy I become when my story is appreciated!**

 **D isclaimer: NO, don't even make the mistake of thinking I'm J K Rowling! I'm a normal kid like all of you'll (maybe)**

"Today is DEFINITELY not my day!" said Harry, scowling. He flung his satchel on the soft grass a tad too roughly. The satchel, already old and worn out, gave up its battle of staying together, and burst open, spewing books, quills and other random stuff he didn't know was in it everywhere. "Neither is it the satchel's" he added as an afterthought.

Leaving the torn satchel as it was, he made his way to the shores of the lake. He remembered coming across it in a skiff, the first time he set foot in Hogwarts. He smiled fondly as he remembered the fun he had in the first year.

He was brought out of his reverie by more memories-harsher and more recent ones, this time. He had given Hermione the features of a mongoose in Transfiguration, purely by mistake. She had slapped him, and then rushed to the hospital wing when she found out she couldn't do anything about it, clever as she was. 'I'm sorry! It was a mistake! I'm really, really sorry!' he had cried out after her, as she went, tears running down her now-furry face.

He had hoped the charms class would be better. But it had been worse. He had cast a Colour-changing Charm on what he thought was a pillow. But, Professor Flitwick, who had come to ask about Hermione, his star student, had received the full effects of the Charm. He turned a sunset orange, and then burgundy, then an atrocious shade of blue, setting the whole class into fits of laughter. "Ten points from Gryffindor! See if that makes you laugh now!" Harry felt the glares of the Gryffindor students on him. His ears turned crimson from shame, the same shade the dwarfish Charms Professor was at that moment. He cast another charm, making him back to normal. "And detention for you, young man Potter! Here at 11 am, Saturday! Class dismissed!"

Potions...he didn't even want to think about it (it involves an explosion, with wrongly chopped dragon-root jelly, and Snape getting angry. Very, very angry.)

He felt like he had hit an all-time low.

Unwrapping his sandwich from its wrappings, he began to nibble at it. He suddenly froze, the sandwich midway to his mouth. A shaggy, black shape was approaching him at the speed of lightning.

"Oof!" was the only sound that came out of his mouth, as all the air was pushed out his lungs. A huge dog was on top of him, licking his cheek like Harry was his most favourite person in the whole world.

" **Hey Harry! Remember me!?"**

Memories clicked into place as Harry looked at the dog in front of him. **"You're the dog who said I was special."**

" **You can think of it that way,"** the dog replied in a bark, slightly dejected. **"Hey, I'm hungry! Do you mind if I eat that sandwich in your hand? You don't look like you're going to eat it yourself."**

" **Bon appétit."** Before Harry could place the sandwich in front of the dog, it had eaten it straight from his hand.

" **Dee-licious! So, what's up with the whole 'I'm –a-saddo' aura?"**

" **I am not a saddo! And I DON'T RADIATE AN AURA!"** Harry spoke testily.

The dog appeared to raise an eyebrow. **"Really? Isn't there SOMETHING you want to tell me?"**

" **NO!"**

" **Desperate times call for desperate measures! AQUARINA!"**

" **Oi! No need to shout so much, Doggy!"** A voice shouted from the lake. It sounded like a punched mermaid.

" **We have the new Beastmaster here with us. He's hiding something. Harry, this is Aquarina, ruler of all things in the lake. Aquarina, this is Harry, the new Beastmaster. Aquarina is a certified Reader. And since you are not telling us anything, she'll have to read your mind."**

" **There's one problem: I can't read minds through different mediums. So Harry will have to jump in. Harry, dear, could you utter the spell 'Agua Resparo' in Pisitounge?"**

" **Pisitounge? What's that?"** asked Harry, baffled. He was also speaking like a punched mermaid.

" **Universal Fish Lingo. Just say it, Harry."**

" **Agua Resparo!"** Harry suddenly felt the overwhelming need to jump into the lake, like he was choking. He tore off his clothes and jumped into the lake.

It was dark inside. "Lumos," Harry muttered, surprised that he could talk normally. What he saw next took him aback and filled him with surprise, fear and wonder of Mother Nature.

A huge eye was in front of him, inspecting him. And what an eye it was! It was as huge as the Weasleys' Ford Angelina. The iris was a pretty amber, the sclera tinted with silver. It was beautiful, yet it filled Harry with fear.

" **No need to freak out, dear. I'm Aquarina, giant squid and the ruler of all things in this lake. Let your mind open now. I shall see what's wrong."**

Harry felt soft tendrils probing into his mind, curious, gentle. He did not bar them, letting them into his mind, letting them see what the problem was.

They drew away after a few minutes. **"You've had a bad day in school, right? There's no need to mope about like a saddo. You'll have good days and bad days throughout your life. It's all right to make mistakes, as long as they can be rectified later. Your friend Hermione won't look like a mongoose for her entire life. The Charms professor won't keep changing colour. And there's a limit to how angry Snape can be at one time. So chill. It may be hard for a few days, but it will be all right. And the detention will be over before you know it!"**

" **You've made me feel better already! Thanks Aquarina! But I must be going now. My friends might be worried for me."**

He felt the need to get back to the shore as the spell wore off. He quickly swam and emerged from the lake. He summoned a towel and repaired his torn clothes before wearing them.

His eyes widened as he saw a man, lying in place of the dog, basking in the sunlight. He was an acrocomic, with wavy brown hair that reached to his shoulders. He looked like royalty, yet his eyes had a friendly twinkle. He looked...familiar.

"Wotcher, Harry. How was the swim? Did you like Aquarina? She may be bit of a mother hen, but she is friendly. Very. Whoa, Harry what's gotten into you?"

"Sirius Black." A wave of red-hot anger hit Harry. He pointed his wand at him. "You led Voldemort to my parents, watched as he killed them, and denied me the right to a family. What do you want now? Is not letting my parents die enough?"

"I can explain, Harry..."

" _Stupefy!"_ Harry shouted. Sirius deflected the spell with a simple _"Protegeo."_

"Harry, Harry, listen to me. I did not lead Voldemort to your parents. I wish...I wish I held on to the secret password. I wish I was still the secret keeper. I wish..." Sirius could not say more. He turned into that familiar black dog and ran back into the bushes nearby. **"Let this be our little secret, Harry."**

Harry watched, confused. 'What do I do now? Should I keep this meeting a secret? I think I should. Nobody would believe me if I said I talked to a giant squid because Sirius Black, morphed as a dog, whom I had befriended, told me to. Everyone would think I was bananas. Except for Hermione, maybe.'

B ending to pick up his satchel, he got a pleasant surprise. Not only was it repaired, but also there was a box of Chocolate Frogs in it. Shouldering his satchel, he made his way to the hospital wing.

 **Like it? Like it? Tell me if it needs something, what you'll want to see, ... Please review. I am a human too, who needs a dose of happiness, now and then**

 **Aayu10 out!**


	5. Chapter 5- The revelation: Part 1

**HELLLLOOOOO! Who writes good fanfiction? MMMMMEEEEEEEEEE!(Maybe)(Looks like it)**

 **D o I own Harry Potter? NNNNNNOOOOOO!**

"And that's what an Animagus is," concluded Hermione, shutting the thick, old book on her lap. They were in the Gryffindor common room, seated shoulder-to-shoulder on one of the red velvet couches.

"So you mean Sirius Black is an Animagus? He can change himself into any animal?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"No, only the animal that matches his personality the most. And yes, he is an Animagus"

"A dog? A shaggy black one at that? I had befriended him. He makes a lovely dog. He has just the right amount of cute and loyalty."

"You met him before? And he didn't kill you?" Hermione questioned him, flummoxed. This was a new side of Sirius Black, apparently. Not to mention the repaired satchel, the Chocolate Frogs and the Firebolt given to him on his birthday.

"Yep. He was a friendly guy, not showing any inclination towards killing me. He gave me some advice, told me I was special."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Hermione asked

"Sirius Black may not be guilty," they said at the same time.

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'If Sirius Black is innocent, then why was he in Azkaban?' thought Harry, washing his face at the sink. He was getting ready for bed. Saying goodnight to Ron (he decided he did not like Scabbers. He wished Crookshanks would eat him), he climbed into bed.

A scream and a sudden flurry of activity woke him from a pleasant sleep. Ron was screaming, "Sirius Black! Sirius Black! H-h-h-he-he-he tried to kill me!"

He had turned as pale as a ghost-maybe paler. The curtains around his bed were slashed to ribbons. Neville, Seamus and Dean were petrified with fear. Putting on his glasses, he looked around his dorm, trying to make head or tail of the situation.

"Calm down Ron," began Harry, petting his back, "take a deep breath and tell me what happened."

Ron took several shivering breaths." I was sleeping when I heard someone slash my curtains. I saw Sirius Black with a knife above me, with murder in his eyes. It was so scary..." He began to shiver uncontrollably. Harry saw a patch of wetness form on the clean white sheets on Ron's bed, a stink of urine suddenly pervading the air.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Harry spoke up, resignedly, leading Ron into the bathroom, giving him a pair of clean pyjamas.

Ron had barely emerged from the bathroom, and Harry had disposed of the soiled sheets, when a clack of two pairs of shoes announced the entry of Dumbledore and Madam McGonagall.

Madam McGonagall was the first to speak. "The moment we heard that Sirius Black had managed to enter the dorms, we rushed here. Some of you might be scared out of your wits. Even," she sniffed the air, scrunching up her nose at the acidic smell of urine, "traumatized. But not to worry. We have made arrangements for all of the Gryffindors to sleep in the Great Hall till this 'Sirius Black' menace is settled. "

"Had anyone left a paper with all the passwords of the week written on it?" Dumbledore asked, holding up a piece of paper with words scrawled on it. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Neville gulp. "For whoever left this, aided Sirius Black in entering the tower. That's what Sir Carter told me. This carelessness shall not go unpunished."

All the boys, bar Neville, followed Madam McGonagall as she made her way to the great Hall, where the Gryffindor Prefects were distributing sleeping bags to the children. Harry and his friends collected their bags and made their way to the end of the Hall. There was a lot of chatting, before anyone had some actual sleep.

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A WEEK LATER...

Sprawled on the scarlet couches after many energetic games of Exploding Snap, Harry, Ron and Hermione let their eyes travel across the common room, settling on the Weasley twins, who were up to their tricks again. They offered what looked like a custard cream to an unsuspecting first year, who ate it with relish. He licked his fingers appreciatively when it was finished. "Wait for it," Harry told his friends.

When the first year opened his mouth to thank the twins, all that came out was a chirp. The poor boy started to twitter anxiously when he felt (and saw) pale yellow feathers grow on his hands and feet. Suddenly, a puff of smoke sprung up around him, blocking the sight of him from everyone's eyes, which had turned to watch Fred and George's newest prank.

When the smoke cleared, a grotesque mutation of human and canary greeted the eyes of the eager spectators. The creature had the head of the first year and the body of a canary. His eyes were confused, desperate. He chirped something that sounded something like 'What the hell is happening to me?' This made everyone explode into peals of laughter.

"And this, my friends, is why one must not accept food from any Tom, Dick and Harry. We present our newest invention, Canary Creams!" Fred said, holding up a box.

"Don't worry; they wear off after half an hour," George reassured the boy; then turning to address the crowd around him, he placed his offer," Three Sickles and two Knuts a box! Come and get them now!"

Turning their eyes away from the crowd that had now gathered around their twins, with their piggy banks, the three friends began to talk among themselves; Ron told them how George and Fred aspired to open a joke shop and how they troubled the living daylights out of their mother; Hermione began to chat about the woes of being a kid with overbearing parents, Harry, in turn, told them about some funny event in Potions.

"What's that?" asked Ron, all of a sudden. His eyes were turned to the window, focusing intently on something.

"What?" asked Hermione and Harry in unison.

"That," responded Ron. Seeing the confused looks on his friends' faces, he sighed, and saying, "Come with me," he took their hands and dragged them to the window. "That," he said again, pointing to a shape nearby the Whomping Willow.

"That looks like Professor Lupin," Hermione said, scrunching up her eyes at the shape, "what's he doing there?" The black shape resembling Professor Lupin tapped something underground, near the Whomping Willow, which made it stop its thrashing. Lupin ducked under the branches, and then, he was gone. The Willow resumed its flailing. "Where did he go?" a bewildered Hermione asked.

"That looks like Professor Snape," Harry interjected, seeing another black shape approach the Whomping Willow. He too, vanished from the scene in the same way.

"Are you'll thinking what I'm thinking?" Hermione began.

"I'll get my Cloak," Harry ran up to the boy's dorm, thankful for the diversion the Weasley twins' prank provided.

"Are you sure about this?' Ron questioned, his usual hesitance coming into play.

"Oof! We have enough to deal with here, besides your hesitance, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione answered. Three growing children were a tight fit under an Invisibility Cloak clearly made for one grown man.

Sure, the Whomping willow looked scary from the common room window, but up close, it was downright intimidating. "Now, I know how you'll felt in second year, when your dad's car crashed into this," Hermione said in a small voice.

"Where did Professor Lupin and Snape go?" Harry wondered, stupefied.

"I can see a tunnel underneath the trunk of the tree. There!" Ron exclaimed, pointing. Sure enough, there was a tunnel and what looked like a knot of roots.

"I think that is what we must tap." Hermione said, "On my count, we _stupefy_ the tree, 'cause it's too big for one spell. One! Two! Three! _**Stupefy!**_ " The tree stood still. Too still. Like the calm before the storm. When Harry approached the knot of roots, the tree began its thrashing. One flailing branch sent Harry flying through the air. He landed heavily in a thicket of bushes, the air puffed out of his lungs.

"I think I broke something," Harry grimaced, trying to stand up. Pure, white-hot pain shot through him, like a bolt of lightning when he placed his right foot on the ground. He could see Ron and Hermione rush towards him, but they looked far off. _**"Help,"**_ Harry called weakly, in what sounded like a hodgepodge of animal sounds.

Amber eyes peered at him through the bushes. A greenish-blue cloud of fireflies approached him. He could hear a distant Hooooooooo... of many owls.

The amber eyes belonged to a glaring of cats, Crookshanks at their lead. They climbed up the bushes, and with the help of the owls, slowly lowered Harry onto the ground. The fireflies illuminated this rescue act. Harry, leaning against a stick one of the owls thrust into his hands, slowly hobbled towards the willow. He bowed his head toward the ground. **'O Mighty One, Guardian of Hogwarts, Please let us enter the tunnel in the bower of your roots. Our professors are there, and we fear for them.'** He thought, focusing his thoughts onto the Whomping willow, not sure if his minutes-old idea would work.

' **Youngling,'** a voice as old as eternity itself reverberated through Harry's mind, making his skull ring, **'why do you want to enter this tunnel? Many perils lie ahead. And youngling, I only heed the orders of the Beastmaster and the Headmaster of Hogwarts.'**

' **I, Harry Potter, Beastmaster, command you to open up the tunnel in the bower of your roots!'**

' **As you command, Beastmaster.'** The Willow stopped thrashing. The tunnel opened up.

"Get in –Quickly!" Harry told his friends.

"How did you do that?" Ron asked Harry, awed at his abilities. First, he was rescued by animals and now this? Making the Whomping willow do your bidding? That was super cool.

"Shhhh...I can hear something!" Hermione whispered, shushing them both.

The 'something' Hermione heard suddenly came in front of them, illuminated by the _Lumos_ spell at the end of their wands.

" **You?"**

 **(Happy dance) I did it! I did it! I created a cliffie! The usual- read, review, fave, follow. And don't like, don't read.**

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 **Aayu10 out!**


	6. Chapter 6- The revelation:Part 2

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 **You'll have inspired me to get off the couch and write! Without more delay, let me begin.**

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Last time:-

" **You?"**

Now:-

A gray wolf stood in front of them, teeth bared, as if ready to attack, but our three friends could see the pain in its eyes. Wounds covered it from top to toe, some old, some freshly inflicted, blood seeping from them.

Harry extended his hand, as if to pet it. The wolf filched, and took a step backwards.

"I say, doesn't he look familiar?" Hermione pointed out, bending down to look into its earthy-brown eyes.

"He does," Ron agreed.

 **"Who are you?"** Harry enquired, gentleness in his voice.

"Professor Lupin!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly. The others, including the wolf, looked at her, flummoxed.

"Haven't you noticed? It's a full moon today. Professor Lupin's Boggart takes the form of a full moon. The Shrieking Shack is said to emanate strange noises during this time. And haven't you noticed Professor Lupin himself? He looks off-colour and haggard around the time of the full moon. So, putting all of these together, I conclude that Professor Lupin is a werewolf, and this wolf here is him in wolf form!" Hermione hurriedly explained herself.

 **"Rightly so. I'm professor Remus Lupin, the werewolf."** The wolf confirmed, and ran away.

 **"WAIT! COME BACK! We won't harm you!"** Harry shouted, running after him, tailed by Ron and Hermione.

They followed the wolf unwittingly into what looked like a shack.

 **"Don't follow me. Go. Run away, and don't come back!"** Remus howled, anguish in his eyes.

Harry ignored this remark and went closer to Remus. He kneeled down, and stroked him. Blue sparks flew from his hands, closing the wounds, calming Remus down.

"Whoa," Ron and Hermione exclaimed.

Harry whispered soft words, stroking him again and again. "Let the magic of the earth keep you well, and the songs of the wind cheer you. Let the heat of fire burn away all your worries and the coldness of water heal your wounds. Let nature heal you and keep you well. I, the Beastmaster command it and carve it into stone!"

Remus' eyes widened. These were the exact words James had uttered when he first discovered his lycanthropy. They were a remedy to the pain that came with the transformation, better than any Wolfsbane potion. The spell had worn off when James died. From the corner of his eye, he spied Hermione and Ron tentatively coming closer.

"Harry?"

"Its fine, come and stroke him," They petted him, running fingers through velvety fur, congealed blood in certain places, offering comfort to one who had not had any for a long, long time.

All of a sudden, a black asteroid burst apart this small company. A wounded, but calm Professor Lupin got up and smiled."Sirius!"

To everyone's surprise, he got up shakily and embraced Sirius Black. A smile graced their faces. "I thought the Dementors had caught you! I thought you had got the Dementor's Kiss!"

"Speaking of Dementors..." Hermione pointed to black-cloaked figures approaching them. A sense of hopelessness, characteristic of their approach, washed over all of them.

'Concentrate...think of your happiest memory...' Harry thought, recalling the advice Professor Lupin gave him on casting Patronus Charms. He thought-where had he felt happiest? Suddenly, early memories erupted into his mind- the warm arms of his mother, his father's laugh, the way his father used to call birds to the lawn, with a high twitter and chirrup, and let him play gently with them, his mother singing him to sleep. More recent ones-Hogwarts. Being with Ron and Hermione. Hagrid's hut. The Burrow. Mrs. Weasley's maternal habits. Quidditch. His first flight on a broom. The first time he caught the Golden Snitch. He opened his eyes. "Expecto Patronum!" He shouted, in a high, musical tone he remembered hearing somewhere. All at once, a majestic stag sprung from his wand, made of red light. Its eyes blazed with a surreal fire. It pranced across the room, bashing each Dementor in the head with its hooves, occasionally butting them with its antlers. The Dementors burst open in a cloud of stars. The stag itself morphed into a tongue of flame, and then vanished.

"That was..." Ron struggled to find the right word.

"Unusual," Hermione finished.

"Cool!" Sirius interjected.

"Not like a normal Patronus at all. Harry, what tongue did you cast the spell in?" Professor Lupin questioned.

"No idea. It sounded familiar. I heard it somewhere in the Chamber of Secrets, if I rightly recall..."

"Phoenix!" Ron exclaimed. "That was the only creature other than the basilisk. And that _thing_ could only respond to Parsletounge. And Fawkes sounded exactly like that! Harry, how can you do that? It's strange."

"Ron, please don't tell anyone! Keep it a secret or Harry will fall in trouble," Sirius ordered Ron, putting a hand on his shoulder. Ron edged away from him, fear apparent in every feature. "Let's go back now, the others will be missing you'll."

"Professor Snape?"

"He went back after giving me the Wolfsbane potion. The potion didn't seem to work today," Professor Lupin answered.

Harry explained everything to a confused Ron as they made their way back; how every first-born Potter got the power to speak to animals, his first meeting with Sirius, Hermione showing him the right book, and concluded with the realization of Sirius being innocent.

"But there's something I still don't understand- why did you try to murder me? And if it wasn't you, who helped You-Know-Who kill Harry's parents?"

"First things first-that incident with Pettigrew? Entirely his doing," Sirius replied

"What?" All three children asked.

"Yep. Peter Pettigrew killed all those people. And then he cut off his finger and escaped."

"Isn't he proclaimed dead?"

Professor Lupin and Sirius shared a look, a look that said 'we have a lot of explaining to do' and looked back at them.

"The Marauders- James, Sirius, Peter and me- were the closest group of friends in Hogwarts. When the other Marauders discovered my lycanthropy, they became Animagi," Professor Lupin began in a quiet voice.

"Isn't that a long process? You have to register too," Hermione asked.

"James, Sirius and Peter didn't register. James became a stag; Sirius, a dog, and Peter, a mouse."

"Are you'll the makers of the Marauder's map?" Harry enquired.

"It's our creation. The last we saw of it was in Filch's drawer. Where is it now?" Sirius asked, a sparkle in his eyes.

"Sirius, you're going off-topic," Professor Lupin elbowed him.

"George and Fred Weasley snatched it from Filch's drawer. It's with us now. Continue, Professor Lupin." Harry answered.

"Anyways, back to the topic. We realized, too late, that Peter was a traitor, a servant of You-know-Who. Sirius had given him the secret password, as he had insecurities about being caught by You-Know-Who. Peter just potters off to him and gives him the location and password. And the rest is history, as they say," Professor Lupin concluded.

"You had said something about him escaping, didn't you? Where is he now?" Ron asked.

"You're carrying him around with you," Sirius answered.

"Scabbers? Scabbers can't be Peter Pettigrew!" Ron shouted back, incredulously.

"Oh, yes he can." Sirius retorted, "As Remus said earlier, Peter was a mouse in Animagus form. He had cut off his finger, as I said before. Have you ever noticed Scabbers' right front paw?"

"There is one toe less. And he is so battered and sickly-looking, it's a wonder he's still alive," Hermione answered.

"That's the cool thing about Animagi; they live longer than normal animals, if they choose to stay in animal form," Sirius answered, smiling.

"But that still doesn't explain why you attempted to murder me!" Ron said.

"Can't you connect the dots, Ron? Sirius wasn't after you; he was after Scabbers, a.k.a Peter Pettigrew, who, as we all know, sleeps with you, in YOUR BED!" Hermione snapped.

"Oh," Ron said in a small voice, intimidated by Hermione's outburst.

"I'm leaving this job of teaching, as much as I like it," Professor Lupin broke the long silence that had ensued between them as they walked back to the school building. A look of bewilderment and worry crossed the faces of Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Why?! You're the best Defence against the Dark Arts professor we've ever had, in fact, the best professor we've ever had!" Harry remarked, surprised and angry.

"Let's face it, Harry-one's bloodline is all that matters nowadays. Only people like Dumbledore take merit into consideration when they recruit people. You do not know how many parents will pull their children out of Hogwarts when they come to know that one of the teachers is a werewolf. The Wizarding world is much stigmatised towards werewolves, thinking of them as feral, murderous creatures," Sirius offered as explanation.

"Why can't they give you a chance? Can't you hide you lycanthropy?" Hermione argued.

"I could, but someone would find out, like you did. It's better to be safe than sorry," Remus countered, patting Hermione on the head.

"Listen, Harry," Sirius spoke softly, looking into Harry's emerald eyes as he spoke, "After all this ruckus has been cleared, we could live at my place, you know. Get away from your idiot relatives."

"But Dumbledore said that I was protected because I lived there," Harry said sadly, hopelessness apparent in his voice.

"Forget what that fellow said, for now. I've been reading up on ancient magic. The spell which Lily cast – it needs love and a relative to reach its full potential. You have relatives, but they think of you as a burden, an outcast not fit to live in their world. James and I weren't just friends-we were like brothers. I'm your godfather, on top of that. So, I'm basically family. And I love you-love you like my own son," At this simple confession, Harry's eyes overfilled with tears. "Harry," Sirius bent down, putting his hands on Harry's shoulders, "I would do anything for you, even stop living. The moment I saw your little face, your shining green eyes, just like Lily's, I knew I loved you like my own. Before I dropped you off at the Durseleys, I held you and didn't want to let go, however much Dumbledore insisted. I worried about you, even in Azkaban. The moment I managed to escape, I followed you. Howling your name as a dog. Paying visits to your house. Please, Harry, come live with me. I could use some happiness. And you could use some too." Sirius got up to go. Harry noticed tears, pristine as crystal, escape his eyes and fall to the ground.

Harry quickly made up his mind. Before Sirius could turn to go, Harry hugged him. "Thank you," Harry whispered, overcome with emotion, "Thank you so much. I'll come and live with you. I'll rather be in the wrong with my godfather than with no one."

Sirius looked affectionately at his godson, too overcome with emotion to speak. Smiling, he petted his head and hugged him back. "I'll meet you at the station, then. This is our secret, understood? What will people think when they come to know that the Boy Who Lived, golden boy, is living with an ex-convict?"

Harry laughed, then broke away from the embrace, and ran off to join his friends, shooting a smile at Sirius before going, trumpets of hope bellowing a joyful tune in his heart.

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As Harry alighted from the Hogwarts Express, his eyes scanned the crowd of people at Platform 93/4, looking for no one in particular. His eyes alighted on Sirius Black, dressed elegantly in a purple suit. He appeared to be looking for someone. When their eyes met, they smiled, small secret smiles no one else saw.

Bidding goodbye to his friends, he exited the platform. Noticing Sirius had exited at the same time, he ran, his baggage trolley clattering after him, and hugged Sirius.

" I told you I would be there," Sirius' eyes twinkled. Breaking the embrace, he ruffled Harry's mop of hair. "Now, where to first?"

 **My favourite chappie till now! I had a good time writing it. I hope you like it! PM me if you want to see anything else! I am also on Instagram as da_fancy_book_nerd.**

 **Aayu10 out!**


	7. Chapter 7-The Shift

**(Taps knuckles on glass) You'll still there?**

 **HELLO MY FRIENDS! WHO IS ON THE TOP OF THE WORLD? MMMMEEEEEEEE! Because of my lovely followers!**

"I'm home!" Harry shouted, ringing the door bell.

Petunia opened the door to her nephew. "Welcome back and all that. We just started lunch."

"I'm sorry, Petunia. He won't be staying for lunch," Sirius said from the back of the door.

"Who's there?"

"Sirius Black, Harry's godfather and his new guardian." Sirius' lanky form emerged from behind the door. He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Now, if you would be kind enough to show me to Harry's room..."

Petunia swooned on the spot. "C'mon Harry, we don't have much time!" Sirius simply stepped over Petunia's inert form.

They made their way up to Harry's room (Closing the door before they went. "No one wants to see your unconscious aunt near the door," Sirius had quipped, closing the door silently)

"Let me help you," Sirius said, picking up a few odds and ends and randomly throwing them in a suitcase. "Batman? Who's he?"

"He's a Muggle comic character," Harry replied, taking the comic from Sirius and putting it in the suitcase. "He's a bit of a sadist in my opinion."

"It looks so cool!"

"Read it then."

It took some time for them to pack, but they were finally done. "Goodbye, Durseleys!" Harry exclaimed, his gaze travelling about his now-empty room.

"PETUNIA! What happened to you?" Vernon Durseley suddenly exclaimed. "HARRY!" Our unfortunate hero gulped.

"I'm dead meat. Uncle Vernon thinks I did something to Aunt Petunia," Harry told Sirius.

"HARRY! COME DOWN THIS INSTANT!"

"I'll take care of him," Sirius put an arm in front of Harry and went down the steps.

"And who are you, my honourable sir?" Vernon questioned Sirius, his voice laced with sarcasm and arsenic.

"Sirius Black, ex-convict and Harry's godfather," He tipped a bow in Vernon's direction.

Vernon blanched. An ex-convict who was Harry's godfather? Bad combination. Very bad combination. Alarms went off in his head. It was better to comply with this fellow's requests. "Tell me, what is your business here?"

"I've come to take Harry away. Now, if you would kindly divert your mass away from the doorway..."

Vernon immediately stepped away from the doorway, fear written in every feature of his pasty visage. Sirius and Harry exited, Harry bidding them farewell with a light heart and a happy mind.

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"Here we are. It's not much, but it's my home," Sirius said when they reached Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

"It's...huge!" Harry exclaimed, looking on in awe at the sheer hugeness of the house, or manor, as it should aptly be called, in front of him. Sirius unlocked the front door and they entered.

"Master should not bring half-bloods home!" an old, wizened house-elf appeared in front of them and began to wail, blocking their way.

"Kreacher, this is my house and I shall do as I please! Now get out!" Sirius shouted. The elf disappeared with a crack.

An unearthly wailing filled the air, sending shivers down Harry's back. "Noooooo ooneeee shall contaminate my house by bringing half-bloods!"

"Wh-who's that?" Harry asked in a voice reduced to a whisper out of fear, tugging at Sirius' coat sleeves.

"That's just my mum. Don't worry; she's practically harmless. But first, let me put on the lights!"

Sirius pulled a lever. Like a magical chain reaction, the curtains drew back, revealing a dingy, fungus- infested living room and the source of that unearthly wail, a portrait of a regal-looking lady, who looked at Harry like he was this particular itch she couldn't scratch or this patch of dirt that never came off her clothes. He guessed that she was Sirius' mother; he could discern the family resemblance. The round grey eyes, the regal forehead, the lanky frame were common between mother and son. But there was a marked difference: while Mrs. Black's eyes pierced through Harry, Sirius' eyes gleamed with an amicable twinkle. She carried her frame severely, while there was an air of 'devil-may-care' and rebellion about Sirius.

" _HALF-BLOODS!_ Not in my house!" The portrait wailed.

"Yes, he will stay. Now say goodnight, _Mum,_ " Sirius pulled down another cord and a curtain fell over the portrait, muffling her wails. "Sorry, Harry."

Harry could only look on in what resembled a mix of wonder, shock and fear. "We need to clean up, ASAP."

"With what?"

"Cleaning supplies. Haven't you heard of Prill? Or Mr. Muscle, for that matter?"

"Nope, never heard of these weird things. Sound like gibberish to me" Sirius popped the 'p'.

"Then, my dear godfather, it is time we went to a Muggle supermarket," Harry finished, with a look of determination on his face.

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The glass doors of the supermarket opened with a 'ping', letting Harry and Sirius in. Compared to Diagon Alley, Tesco's, with its stark beige walls, resembled a hospital. But Sirius looked around, a look of childish wonder on his face. For a moment, Harry had forgotten that barcodes, conveyors and the other gizmos that filled a supermarket were new to any wizard, let alone one who had been severed from all contact from the outside world for twelve long years. "Come along, people are staring," Harry said, tugging at Sirius' coat.

Pushing a trolley in front of him, Harry told Sirius what to get, and no, he couldn't _Accio_ the bottle off the shelf in front of so many Muggles. Soon the trolley was filled with sponges, rubber gloves, brushes and cleaning agents of every kind. The lady at the cash register was surprised, to say the least. "Spring cleaning," Harry offered in way of explanation.

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"So, where do we begin?" Harry asked, back at the manor, pulling on his gloves.

"I don't know. The living room?"

A sudden thud on the window made them jump. _**"Boss-man! There's a letter for you!"**_

 _ **"Coming!"**_ Harry exited the front door, just to see Errol, the Weasleys' owl sprawled on the ground, looking dazed.

 _ **"Here boy, let's get you inside. Just hop onto my arm."**_

 _ **"Ok."**_ Errol took off with a flap of his dappled wings, and landed on Harry's head instead of the arm Harry held out.

 _ **"That works too,"**_ Harry sighed, pushing away the bit of parchment that was repeatedly going in his eye, and went inside.

"What are you doing with an owl on your head?" Sirius questioned Harry.

"It's the...fashion nowadays?"

"Jokes apart, let's see what this fellow has to say," Sirius lifted Errol off Harry's head and set him on the oaken coffee table.

 _"That's Louis XVI!"_ Sirius' mother wailed from behind the curtain.

Sirius conveniently ignored her and set about taking off the message from Errol's leg.

"It's from your friend, Ron."

"Give it to me!" Harry took the message from Sirius' hand.

'Dear Harry,' it read, 'hope the uncle and aunt are not giving you too much trouble. Everyone is pretty fine here at the Burrow. Would you like to come I say, I've got some pretty good news. In the raffle at work, Dad won tickets to the finals of the Kid Quidditch World Cup. Would you like to join us? Send the answer with Errol (did he bump into a window?).

All our love,

RON. P.S- George, Fred and Ginny say Hi. Mom asks if you're eating well. Dad wants to know how the fellytone works.'

Harry smiled at this letter, full of smiles and warmth. Heck, it even smelt like Molly Weasley's sugar cookies. "Sirius, can I go?" Harry asked his godfather.

"Where to, Harry?" Sirius asked.

"Ron's father got tickets to the Quidditch World Cup finals, and they are inviting me to go along with them."

"Hmmm...I'll think about it," Sirius said, and thought for some time. "You can go," he told Harry.

"Thanks, Sirius!"

"But first, let's make this house liveable," Sirius said, eying the mould-infested walls of the living room.

"Let's begin! " Harry said.

Over a period of four days, they managed to make three rooms clean and free of mildew and fungus. It hard been hard, not only because it had been tough to clean out the fungus, but also because Boggarts had made their homes in the wet and small nooks and crannies of the rooms, of which there was no deficiency.

Harry had encountered a Boggart, while he had been cleaning out one of the many bedrooms in the Black household, when he had opened up a cupboard that had never been opened for the twelve years Sirius had been in prison. The mildew-like scent of unused clothes hit him in the face like a wall. Harry was trying to recover from the dank scent he had inhaled, when it came.

It slithered across the floor, as a silver mass, then manifested itself into the thing he feared most-Lord Voldemort. Pale-white as chalk, with slits for nostrils, he carved a pretty intimidating picture. "Ri-ri-riddikulus!" Harry uttered, holding up his wand in front of him, trembling. The Dark Lord just sneered at him and was extending a clawed hand to his throat-

"RIDDIKULUS!" Sirius shouted, and the Boggart dispersed, Voldemort resembling Santa Claus in the characteristic red robes and white beard. "Harry, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Harry replied mechanically, even though he felt the opposite of perfectly fine. He closed his eyes to stop the tears from slithering down his face. He- he had just stood there and let Voldemort try and throttle him, and again, he had to depend on someone else to help him out. Although it was just a Boggart, he still felt ridiculous and useless, like the spell.

"It's fine to cry, Harry. 'It is tears only, such as men use. Let them fall, Mowgli. They are only tears.'"

"Quoting Kipling, eh?" Harry smiled, despite the abyss of sadness in his heart.

Sirius just smiled and hugged Harry closer to him.

 **(Wiping Tears)How's it? Pls read, review and recommend! I apologise profusely for my tardiness!**

 **Aayu10 out!**


	8. Chapter 8- The experiment

"Harry, you ready?" Sirius asked Harry, looking at the boy who kept looking unnervingly like James with every passing day.

"What about the Ministry restrictions on under-age magic?" Harry questioned his godfather.

"I read up about that. It only provides for human tongues, not beast magic. Now calm down, take a deep breath and cast _Alohomora_ on this cask in the first tongue that comes to your mind," Sirius tapped a cask with a lock.

" _Alohomora!_ " Harry chittered, not unlike a monkey. The lock burst open in a cloud of glitter, and the cask sprang open, revealing a Jack-In-The-Box. Sirius and Harry snickered.

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ " Harry cast in the same tongue. Sirius fell to the floor, laughing.

"Stop it, Harry!" Sirius howled, between laughs.

"What did I do?" Harry asked, his face a picture of innocence.

"It tickles! Stop it!" Sirius was going red in the face from laughter.

"It will wear off in an hour," Harry stated matter-of-factly.

An hour passed, and Sirius lay on the floor, taking in big breaths of air, his face a shade of tomato red. "Never do that again!" Sirius scolded Harry.

"On Draco Malfoy?"

"Not for too long. Moving on, try another spell in another tongue."

"Wingardum Leviosa!" Harry twittered, pointing his wand at the mahogany dining table, built to let thirty people have a meal at any given time. It left the floor and was airborne. Usually, to lift something so heavy would require the combined efforts of Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry was so surprised, he broke the spell and the table crashed to the floor with a 'BANG', turning into a pile of wooden blocks and splinters.

"That was Chippendale, half-blood filth!" Sirius' mother's portrait wailed.

"God, here we go again," Sirius muttered.

"I'll take care of it! REPARO!" Harry whinnied, and in a trice, the table was as good as new. Sirius looked on, astounded.

"That was fast! Which tongue was that?"

"Horse tongue."

"Uh-uh uh! The term is Equitongue! But we know three things- Monkeytongue's good for pranks, Avistongue increases the efficiency of spells that involve flying and air, and Equitongue speeds up spells." Sirius told Harry as he noted it down in a notebook. "Are you ready for something else?"

"Yes!" Harry shouted, enthusiastic.

Hours of experimenting led to them learning several new things. "So- Felistongue is good for espionage-related spells, Canistongue is good for loyalty spells like the Fidelius Charm, Snailtongue slows down spells and Parseltongue must be used only for Unforgivable Curses and other Dark Spells. Is that right?" Sirius questioned, reading the list he had made again.

"Yes, and Pisitongue increases the efficiency of water related spells," Harry added, "and there are some special spells which can be used with each tongue."

"Like?"

"Aquarina taught me a spell that would help me breathe in water," Harry answered, "And maybe if I read up on ancient magic..."

"Naught that will do. The Beastmasters have existed since the dawn of time, and were a pretty secretive community back then too. There is no written material that exists on the Beastmasters, except for that Book which Hermione gave you in the library. That too doesn't say much. You can't do much about it. You're the only one of your kind."

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" _You're the only one of your kind_ ," Sirius' statement echoed about Harry's head. He wanted to know more about himself, about this...gift of his. Heat exuded out of his tattoo, a comfortable, pleasing heat, like a hot-water bottle placed on tired limbs. He felt a force pull him towards his trunk. The same force compelled him to open his trunk, rummage around and pull out a book, 'I've never seen that book before,' he pondered. He realized the pages were empty as he flipped through them.

" _Hey, Boss-man!"_ An owl hooted at him from the window. _"What's wrong? Human beings are usually asleep at this time."_

" _The problem is, I'm not normal."_

" _No one is, Boss-man. That is the beauty of life. Oh, I see you found 'IT'? Prove to 'IT' that you are a Beastmaster. I hear mice scuttling around. Goodbye!"_ The owl took wing and was soon, airborne.

 _"Goodbye and good hunting!"_ Harry called out after it. Taking philosophical advice from an owl? He might really be going crazy. Anyways, advice was advice, and there was no harm in trying it out. Owls were reputed for their wisdom, yes? (Although a few exceptions to that rule did come to mind)

 _ **"Reveal!"**_ He uttered in a hodgepodge of animal sounds. Flipping through the pages, he found that they were empty.

 _ **"Aparecium!"**_ Harry tried again, desperately uttering the spell for revealing invisible ink. Again, the pages were revealed to be empty. Crestfallen, he placed the book over his face and tried to get some sleep.

"BLOOD! Beastmaster, feed my hungry spirit, the animal running through your veins, so that I may be your servant till the day you die," a voice drawled in Harry's head, slithering into his mind like a snake, making Harry's skull reel.

Harry immediately sat up, and espied a shard of glass next to him. "Do I have to do this?" he asked tiredly, readying the shard.

"Yes..."

"Fine," Harry pricked his index finger, then let a drop of blood fall on the book.

"Not so less, Beastmaster!" The shard moved of its own accord, slicing across Harry's palm. Harry bit the inside of his cheek when he felt the pain of the keen edge of the glass making contact with his skin. A thin ribbon of blood appeared on his palm, resembling the ichor of the gods in the silvery moonlight. He trembled as his palm hovered above the book. Screaming in agony as he felt his blood drain out of him, he fell to the floor, letting unconsciousness surround him like a comforting blanket.

Sirius awoke, hearing Harry's agonised screams. Slipping into his dressing robe, he made his way into Harry's room, to be greeted by the horrible sight of his godson sprawled on the floor, blood draining out of him and onto a certain book at an alarming rate. "Harry!"

"Sirius...what a pleasure. We meet for what, the second time? Didn't know you took such interest in the Beastmasters. All I like about them is the blood that they give me..." The same voice from the book slithered into Sirius' brain.

"Stop it, Herb! You're draining the poor boy's life-force!" Sirius cried, taking Harry's head into his lap.

"I have no intention of stopping, Sirius. Finally, my hunger is appeased! After thirteen years! Here, take the boy back," The blood stopped draining and Harry's wound closed up on its own.

"How much blood did you take?" Sirius demanded of Herb (the book).

"Enough to appease my hunger, and enough to let him live. For now," Herb sneered.

Sirius paled. Herb had been hungry for thirteen years. This bode ill for Harry. Must he use that spell? But it was risky to use it. He fell to reminiscing.

 _"Sirius! Sirius! Help!" James shouted, the pain in his hand unbearable._

 _Sirius ran to James, kicking the book out of the way."Vitilia Regenia!" Sirius uttered, poking James' wound with his wand. Blood spurted out of the wand, falling anywhere but in James' wound. "Shit!" Sirius cursed. "I'm sorry, James, I have to open up the crook of your elbow."_

 _James looked up at him, eyes beseeching. Sirius cut an incision in his fellow Marauder's elbow. He repeated the spell, his wand inside the incision. The colour returned to James' mien and Sirius let out a breath of relief. But the problem had not stopped there. James had to endure the side-effects of a mega-transfusion, which involved fever, nausea and headaches._

But this was no time for reminiscing. He had to act-fast. He cut the interior of Harry's elbow and muttered, " _Vitilia Regenia!"_ Fortunately, the colour returned to Harry's face. "Shoo!" Sirius opened the window, shooing away the creatures of the night that had gathered on the windowsill.

"Sirius?" Harry whispered, emerald green eyes appearing like slits in his face.

"Hm?"

"Leave them be," And he fell back into his comatose state.

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When Harry woke up again, it was under his cushy duvet, to the anxious birds twittering, "Boss-man!"  And Sirius' kindly mien.

"Hello, Harry!" Sirius greeted him. Harry felt his head throb. _**"SHUT UP!"**_ He yelled, and then fell back asleep.

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"Harry? Lie down, that's a good boy," Sirius insisted of Harry, when he came round, later in the evening. He felt something cold on his forehead and something hot move down his throat. "Soup," Sirius said, in way of answer, "Chicken and corn," he read, from the can he held in his hand.

"Here, have some more. Open your mouth," Harry did as he was told and a spoon levitated in the air and into his mouth. He swallowed, the soup warming him from the inside.

"Could you...open the window, please?" Harry asked, spying a few birds and a squirrel sitting on the sill.

"After you finish your soup." But Harry fell asleep just after his stomach was filled with soup.

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"What was that thing?" Harry enquired. It was two days since Harry had last stirred. Sirius was still in his room, watching Harry from his seat in an easy chair, moved next to Harry's bed.

"The book?"Sirius asked. Harry nodded.

"That was Herb. I apologise for not telling you about it," Sirius said.

"What nonsense is this? You named that _creature_ Herb? Bloodsucker would have been a more appropriate name. Or maybe Leech. Or Count Dracula!" Harry said.

"I have no idea how it got the name 'Herb'. Anyways, I forgot that Herb was in the game, and I also thought it would be too dangerous for you to engage Herb's services. You yourself know how," Sirius answered.

"How does it work?"

"Herb engaged you in what is called a 'Blood Contract.' Under this contract, you must provide blood to Herb if you want information," Sirius told Harry, but seeing Harry blanch, reassured him, "Only a drop or two will do now that he is fed and content. Now sleep Harry, and rest your agitated body."

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When Harry next opened his eyes, he espied Ron and Hermione standing by his bedside. "What are you'll doing here?" he enquired, propping himself up with his elbow.

"HARRY! You're better! We heard that you had had your blood sucked from you by a book!" Ron exclaimed.

"Don't ...remind me of Herb," Harry immediately paled at the mention of Herb, "The book," he told his friends.

"It has a name?" Ron questioned, sceptically.

"Might be an ancestral spirit which was imbibed into the book," Hermione mused.

"Maybe, who knows? Just...don't talk about it. It gives me chills," Harry shuddered.

"We came to tell you about the Quidditch Finals!" Ron exclaimed again.

"What about them?" Harry asked, fearing the worst.

"You missed them; you were unconscious when we came to pick you up," Hermione said, "Ireland won against Bulgaria, and there was a sudden appearance of Death-Eaters. Besides that, you didn't miss much," she continued.

"How is Sirius? I kind of like his house; except for that portrait of his mother that keeps shouting about bringing in blood traitors, mudbloods and halfbloods. It gives me the creeps. Did Sirius ever try removing it?" Ron rattled on.

"Sirius told us, you idiot; there's a Permanent Sticking Charm on it!" Hermione replied, flicking Ron on the forehead.

"How did you get here?" Harry questioned his friends.

"We went to Privet Drive, and not finding you there, went to search for you, when we saw Sirius' Animagus form. He flew us here on his flying motorcycle," Hermione responded.

"Flying motorcycle? Goodness me, this world is turning upside down!" Harry cried out, and again fell back into his quilt.

 **Hello, my cherished followers! I apologise for the wait! Anyways, review, if you want to, and any constructive criticism is welcome!**

 **Aayu10 out!**


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